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Humour Isn’t An Excuse

According to reports, racist abuse is on the increase – I’m even aware of it happening to someone I know. Some say it’s an effect of the Referendum campaign, but I don’t feel informed enough to make that judgement.

Where the solution lies is far from clear, but it’s something that needs addressing.

Thinking about it reminded me of something that happened in 1990 when I was working in a direct sales team. The mix of people was, for the time, pretty diverse. We ranged in age from early twenties to sixtyish, there were two women, a bloke with a disability and the youngest was a British born Asian.

To this day, I have no idea whether his family was Indian, Pakistani, Ugandan Asian or “other”. Nor do I know his religion. It never came up and, frankly, I didn’t care. To me he was Shamir (or, more often, Sham) and he was a colleague and friend.

For the most part, the whole team got on well, socialising as well as working together, and whenever we met there was banter, innuendo, strong language and laughter.

During the 18 months I worked there, I even wrote a series of stories about us, creating alter-egos with a theme around drinks (don’t ask – it’s a long story). No Justice League or Avengers for us – we were Captain Ribena and the Beverages Superheroes (CRABS). These stories were shared and – as far as I can recall – enjoyed by pretty much everyone.

There was one bloke, Tony (The Ovaltony – I didn’t say it was Booker Prize winning stuff, did I?) who didn’t fit in. His social skills were limited to trying to impress with tales of past exploits, both professional and otherwise – always a crowd-pleasing tactic… (Did I say we did sarcasm as well?)

Shamir was 21 at the time and, at 27, I was the next youngest, so we naturally spent a lot of time together – even our desks faced each other.

The phone rang one morning and Sham answered. It turned out to be Tony, who wanted to speak to our manager. After transferring the call, Sham looked at me. “You won’t believe what he just said.”

Apparently, after hearing Sham’s greeting, Tony had responded: “D’you know, Shamir, over the phone you sound just like one of us.”

Take a moment for that to sink in. I did.

Like a lot of people, when I’m confronted with something I don’t know how to handle, I resort to humour. (To be fair, it is my default setting.) So, after a long pause, I made a comment that doesn’t look good on paper. All I will say is that it was intentionally racist, but the intention was to mock Tony’s attitude to my friend. My facial expression and tone of voice made that clear at the time and, in the moment, it was funny.

But my success at breaking the tension led me to turn it into a running joke that went on for weeks.

As time’s passed, I’ve realised it was wrong. Not because Sham at any point gave any indication that I’d offended him. The thing is, I don’t know if I did. I didn’t think so at the time, but now I’m not so sure. He may have been too polite to let me know I was upsetting him.

As a public speaker, one of the first rules I learnt was never to offend. You want an audience on your side when you’re giving a speech, so why go looking for things to upset them. Because you don’t always know what your audience will be offended by, the trick is to be as neutral as possible – without being bland (easy, then…).

I’m not saying you should apply that way of thinking to every aspect of your life, but there are certain areas where you really don’t need to go. My comments to Sham fell into that category, regardless of their intention.

Sometimes political correctness can go too far but when we should be treating each other simply as fellow human beings, it makes no sense to use offensive remarks and language, regardless of the context. Because there really is no need to offend someone for the sake of a cheap joke.

I said earlier that the solution isn’t clear, but if people like me just think for an extra moment before we open our mouths, we certainly won’t make the situation worse.

Graeme, it’s an easily done thing.
To be honest, I’ve had the “but you’re ok” comment in the past, and it didn’t offend, because I knew it wasn’t intentionally meant to hurt me, but as I got older and thought about it, I wonder whether I should have been affronted by the comment.
But I want a happy existence, and I don’t like to mull over negative things. I’d rather use my positive nature to educate in simple terms so these kind of situations are not the norm.
Unfortunately I know of a lot of people who would take offense, and retaliate in the wrong ways, pulling out the Racist card before thinking themselves, that a few words of guidance could prevent an offensive comment being made in the future,..
Oh I do go on, don’t I?! Did that make any sense??

Thanks, Ritu. To be fair, I’m not beating myself up about it (frankly, I’ve got plenty of other things taking a much higher priority), but especially as it took place so long ago. It just seemed to me that the timing was right to reflect on this.
The “but you’re okay” comment is awful, though, because it implies a particular group (ethnic, religious, whatever…) are generally bad and you’re the exception. (Obviously, Ritu, you are exceptional…) The reality is that the instances where a member of a particular group has done something abhorrent to society – whether that’s an Islamic extremist or an Eastern European who raped someone – they are the exceptions, rather than the rule. Perceptions are enhanced, though, because the media focus on bad news stories so, for the dim-witted who don’t understand that, all they see is Muslims and Eastern Europeans do bad things.
As for the Racist card being pulled, I’ve not ever experienced that myself. My point here is to look at my own actions and consider what I can do to improve in the future. By sharing my thoughts, I just hope one or two people will reflect on them. I can’t change other people’s behaviour, only my own. Not just on this issue, but on a range of experiences I’ve learnt from in the past (maybe it’s time to share my back catalogue of mistakes).
So – just so you don’t feel alone here, Ritu – I’ve gone on a bit too.

I don’t think it’s just people like you as you put it Graeme, but all humans from all walks of life, race, culture or creed. Unfortunately I don’t see it happening as the distrust and hatred grows with every passing day.

I’m sorry you feel like that, Eloise, though I’m sure it’s a reflection of your experience. My hope is that this is a passing phase, and common sense will prevail. As I’ve already said to Ritu, I don’t think the media helps in this regard as it only talks up the bad news and we could do with more positive stories about the various groups who are currently under attack. Those stories are there, they just don’t attract headlines. After all, who wants to watch a report about good news?

I can definitely see your point, and I’ve been guilty of this in my time. It’s only since living in Birmingham, which is a hugely multi-cultural society, that I am more aware of what I say and how I say it.

I think you and I have touched on this subject before, Suzie, albeit in a different context, so I know we have similar views on this. As it happens, I live in a small market town which doesn’t have a great multi-cultural mix – though there is a college which trains Imams and we do have a Polish deli. But I have lived and worked in towns and cities that have more diversity, and I have clients in my day job that reflect that, as well as friends through other groups I belong to. At the end of the day, we’re all just people and we should treat each other as such.

I can’t bear any form of racist, sexist, religious, homophobic… etc, etc, abuse. Coming from a mixed cultural background, I have suffered at the hands of rude remarks myself when I was a youngster. No doubt your humour was meant with good intent Graeme, but I do see what you mean. Especially as the joke continued. I’m sure you didn’t mean to offend. It’s interesting how your public speaking has made you more sensitive to these issues. Sounds like a lot of good is coming out of it. Perhaps public speaking should be on the curriculum for everyone.

I can’t say it’s just the public speaking, Marje, but this feature of it seemed to provide a useful way of summarising a point I wanted to make.
No, it wasn’t my intention to offend. I was actually taking the mickey out of the Ovaltony’s ignorance, and Shamir never gave me any indication that I’d caused him offence. Still, I recognise now that I’d have been better off keeping my mouth shut.
As for the mixed cultural background, I know your pain – my mum’s a Geordie!

Stunned silence… a Geordie… ha ha!! Mine’s Eurasian – half Malaysian, half Scottish. My dad’s half Scottish, and half English. I’m a bit of a mongrel! So grew up with mince and tatties one night, followed by Malaysian food the next. Means I can eat just about anything! Happy smile…

Having Geordies in the family can be a big disadvantage, especially when you can’t understand a word they’re saying. And I don’t even have the advantage of being able to wear a T-shirt and shorts in mid January. Your mix, on the other hand, sounds much more exotic.

I’m a little bit emotional, Graeme, but very touched. I always knew you didn’t mean what you said about the Irish, but to see it laid bare like this, in such a lovely blog post, is just so beautiful. Thank you.

I said Shamir, not Seamus! Typical bloody Paddy, getting the wrong end of the stick!
As I’ve said before, I no longer live with the mother of my children, but her Irishness was not a factor in us going our separate ways. As it happens, my son has just moved over there, so I suspect I’ll be visiting regularly. But in the north, not the south, so you can relax, I won’t be knocking on your door imminently

Your post has reminded me of a video that went viral about a young *refrains to swear* man being openly racist and xenophobic in a bus in the UK. I think of all the ways we could react or try to break the tension, humour is probably the best. Not everyone is capable of that! In any case, that referendum has definitely had an impact, even within families. If you’re interested, I read a sad yet fascinating article on the subject on The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/jun/27/brexit-family-rifts-parents-referendum-conflict-betrayal

Ah, the rifts within families. I have to admit last weekend my sisters and I were all reeling off reasons why we were annoyed with the outcome of the vote and listing the potential problems that lie ahead. We were all as one, and my mum was very subdued – no prizes for guessing which way she voted.
To be fair, where she’s concerned, I’m just frustrated with myself for not explaining things properly in advance. As she said, she didn’t have access to the information I could get to (I did refrain from pointing out that listening to Radio 4 wasn’t that hard), so she allowed herself to be swayed by the headlines.
Sadly, the arguments being put on social media since the Referendum should have been out there a few weeks earlier – and I’m as guilty as anyone of not shouting enough about it.
Bet you’re glad you’re aiming to go to the States… Then again, Donald Trump and the insane gun laws out there are hardly any more reassuring. Shall we both head to Morocco?

YES. Yes, to Morocco. And I might be getting closer to it in the near future… but more on that when it happens.
On a gloomier note, rifts within families are sad but inevitable. I was raised one way then confronted with different perspectives on many occasions. More often than not, our parents don’t experience the same diversity we have/are… and I remember idly scrolling past all those Remain-related posts wondering why everyone felt the need to inform everyone. I was CONVINCED it was unnecessary, that it was obvious people would never vote Leave and clearly… I was wrong. Maybe we should’ve all done more to spread the info. But… what’s done is done.

So, Morocco not the States. Have I not been keeping track? I’ll wait to hear more
As for Brexit, having got over my initial anger about the result (I was surprised at how strongly I felt, but anger was definitely there), I have moved on and agree: what’s done is done, and we just have to move forward.